


Cut it Free

by Fanfictionette (MarionMarionette)



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dark, Dark Fantasy, Dystopia, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Mild Gore, Minecraft, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War, Revolution, War, lots and lots of angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:13:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29668494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarionMarionette/pseuds/Fanfictionette
Summary: "Shake the hand and say your last farewellLeave the winner's stand and lose yourselfNo more begging for the bench to call you cleanCut it free."Dream's hold over the SMP has only gotten stronger over the years ever since the fall of L'manberg and the splitting of the six factions. Everyone is more divided than they've ever been, constantly at war with one another, building walls and taking down communities, tearing down their friends and comrades only to be torn down themselves when its their turn. Tommy himself is guilty of that. But when yet another disaster strikes, he's hit with a final revelation. It's time to fight back. And he'll do anything in his power to win.
Kudos: 1





	Cut it Free

**Author's Note:**

> I've always loved this song. I've always gotten hardcore dystopia vibes from it, of a revolutionary hero rising up and taking a stand against some evil king plaguing the land or something. It's such a good song, one of my favorites. So why not turn it into a horribly dark fic starring lots of blood and very fucked up people!!
> 
> Song: Cut it Free - Rhodez (feat. Adam Tell)
> 
> Please do check out the song! It's so good :)

Tommyinnit was whistling.

He didn't whistle much usually, especially not nowadays. He even thought it was quite annoying and that anyone who did it deserved to have their necks slashed out with an axe and to slowly bleed to death on the forest floor. But this time was different. This time, he was genuinely happy.

Well, happy was a strong word. More like... less emotionless than he usually was. But still, enough to show that his mood was greatly changed, he whistled his improved mood out over the tops of the trees he passed by.

He'd just completed a successful raid of the last village that could be seen for miles in any direction. He reveled in the memory. At how the screams of the villagers echoed in his mind, of the sound their bones made as he easily sliced through them with his heavy sword, of the look of a little villager girl trapped in a burning house he'd set her in. But mostly of the smell of fresh bread! Which he'd managed to make with all the wheat he stole from them. Oh, Wilbur would be so happy.

The only downside being that he had a long way to go to get back home from the village. He had to walk across the entire Dream SMP just to get back to the base. But it'd be so worth it to see the look on Wilbur and Tubbo's faces when their bellies were finally full of something other than beets and potatoes. Even if bread wasn't too much of a long shot from those foods at all... There was nothing like the taste of warm bread after a day of constantly being in danger of your life ending.

He stepped over a particularly large root from a tree nearby as the tune of his whistling continued to echo throughout the empty forest. There weren't many trees around, to be honest. More like miles upon miles of spruce and oak stumps that no one had bothered to collect saplings from to regrow. People didn't bother to do much nowadays, he figured. Except hide and fight and wage war and be wronguns, in his opinion. But that was fine. As long as he was no longer in the middle of it.

He didn't even keep up with that stuff anymore. As soon as Dream had taken complete power over all six factions and split everyone up, he, Wilbur, and Tubbo had all managed to escape and live in what he considered could be relatively considered as peace. They'd been attacked since then, of course. That was a given if you lived in this neck of the woods, figuratively speaking. But they still had kept in... relatively good health. Scarred and different, yes. But still alive.

Although that was hard to say, really. Tommyinnit barely considered himself "living." More like surviving. He starved himself to sleep most days, he lived a quiet life away from any semblance of happiness, and he missed his pets. They weren't allowed under Dream's reign. Or else Sapnap had the freedom to pick them off without any consequences. What a suck up.

But, nonetheless Tommy was alive. He was breathing, walking, eating and drinking, and occasionally smiling. And that was more than he could say for half of the friends he used to know. Well, "friends."

Finally leaving the edge of the forest, Tommy stopped himself and took a deep breath. No freaking out this time. He'd do this without freaking out, he promised himself. Crouching down, Tommy stepped onto the land of the SMP.

Well, what was once known as the Dream SMP. Now The Wastelands.

The once bustling metropolis of life and joy that Tommy had grown up in. Reduced to ash and rubble after the Disc War that ended and began it all. Memories flashed through his mind as his eyes raked over the dusty surface of everything in his path. He remembered where he met Tubbo for the first time, where he, Wilbur, and Techno would have sparring matches in the middle of town square, where he would go to visit Big Q's blacksmith shop to bother him when he was bored, where he would spy on Wilbur and Niki talking and make fun of them for hours. Even where he'd first talked to Dream, who'd seemed so cool at the time. All of that was covered by an ashy haze that made Tommy feel dizzy.

Trying not think about it, he shook the thoughts from his head and continued on.

He slinked past crumbling cobblestone and wooden buildings that he supposed might have been people's houses at some point, hopped over craters that had been blown out and never refilled, and tried not to gaze up at the towering buildings, leaning precariously to their sides with years of rot and erosion. The place was so abandoned that the only sound he heard above his own breathing was the empty whistling of the wind blowing over trenches and through holes. It felt dead. Being there made Tommy feel like he was dead.

But that only lasted a few moments longer, as he heard a sound that made him stop in his tracks. It was faint, but he recognized it as the sound of life. Quickly ducking into a hole nearby, Tommy held his breath.

Sure enough, it was voices. Voices coming from over on the prime path. He told himself he should wait for the sound of footsteps before he continued on. But gradually, his curiosity was getting the better of him. Especially when he heard what sounded like pained screams coming from above. Taking a deep breath, he peeked out from his hiding place. Immediately, the breath left his lungs in a rush.

"No! No please! Leave us alone!"

He strained his ears to hear more, creeping ever closer, even as his limbs were shaking with a mixture of anxiety and anticipation. He didn't dare to breathe.

"You know the deal, Foolish."

Tommy recognized the voice before he recognized the face. It was him, the tyrant Sapnap. He looked.. more sinister than Tommy remembered. His once almost soft features had morphed into sharp angles and a leering grin. In fact, his teeth almost looked like they'd been sharpened down to a point and stuck out of his mouth ever so slightly. His hair was unkempt and dirty, and his headband was practically in tatters, covered in old blood and hanging on by barely a thread. His gaze was pointed, like a pitchfork, down at the figure below the heel of his foot as he pressed his netherite clad boot deeper into the figure's back, and the boy wailed in pain.

"Please!" he cried out again, his voice broken and overflowing with sorrow. Tommy barely recognized him either, but eventually he realized the face of his old friend. Foolish, staying true to his name, was hog tied on the floor of the path, tears streaming down his face that was hidden behind a grimace. His light blond hair, speckled with bits of green and white, was stained with its own layer of old dirt, and he looked skinnier than he had before, with barely enough leather armor to cover his shaking form. He looked terrified, and the feeling reverberated in Tommy's own gut. He peeked out a millimetre more.

Sapnap smirked, then sunk his heel even farther into the boy's skin. Foolish let out another pained grunt followed by a helpless sob. "You really have the gall to beg for forgiveness when this is, what, your fifth offense?"

"Sixth," another voice called out, almost sing songy. Tommy startled as he watched another lithe form hop down from the remains of a house nearby. He almost didn't recognize him either, but it was Prince George. He looked way better off than the two men below him, his arms crossed over a clean white uniform matched by a crisp pair of black dress pants and his shoulders draped in a red and gold cloak that flowed like a wave behind him in the wind. He wasn't wearing his crown, which Tommy had seen before. Probably didn't feel like getting dressed up to go out harassing passersby, Tommy thought with a scowl.

George's golden boots clanked as he waltzed closer to the two. "Sixth offense," he repeated as he glanced down at his nails with a look of annoyance. "He knows the rules and he chooses not to follow them. I don't know how you've even let it go on for so long."

Sapnap looked back up at him and scowled. "Are you suggesting I've gone soft?"

"Not suggesting that at all," George shrugged. "I'm saying you were always soft." He took a step in front of Foolish's face and crouched down to look the terrified boy in the eyes. A smirk took over his features. "You think everyone deserves a second chance." He reached out and Foolish flinched hard, but he only stuck his hand into the man's hair and gave it a little playful tug. "It'd be cute. If it wasn't so annoying." His smile tightened and he yanked harder. Foolish screamed, writhing in his bindings, as George pulled out a sizeable chunk of hair. He made a look of disgust as he brought it closer to his face. "Especially when you're choosing these worthless little nothings to give a second chance to." He flicked the hair away, wiggling his fingers to free him of its grasp.

The guard above him rolled his eyes. "What are you suggesting, then? We just kill any animal that comes around him? You can make a pet of anything, this guy knows that for sure."

"It-it wasn't my pet!" Foolish shook his head hard. "It was just a bunny I found! I was raising it to kill, I just wanted food to eat in the future. J-just in case! That was all, please! Please don't hurt her!"

Sapnap stared down at him, then tilted his head back and gave a hearty laugh. The ground around him practically shook with the force of his apparent glee. Then, to Tommy's surprise, he reached behind him and yanked a bunny that he'd been holding onto from off of his belt. The creature twitched and flailed in his hands, and he brought it closer to his chest, inspecting its neck with a wide and sinister smile.

"Foolish, it has a name tag that says Clementine! How STUPID do you think we are?!"

"It would run away if I didn't! You know animals despawn if you don't name them. That's all it is, I swear on my life. I just wanted a bunny to eat!"

The sharp sound of flesh on flesh echoed throughout the emptiness. Tommy winced and backed away, his own cheek hurting by the sight and sound of George's hand colliding with Foolish's face. The cold look the prince was giving him burned itself into Tommy's entire being.

"As much as I don't enjoy your talking, I have somewhere to be." He stood up, giving a nonchalant stretch as he turned away from them. "Sapnap, deal with this."

Sapnap's wide smile widened. "With pleasure."

"No, please. Wait! No! No don't! NOOO!"

The fragile CRACK that rang through the air as Sapnap twisted off the head of the small twitching creature buried itself into Tommy's mind. Well, he'd have a few nightmares for a while.

Foolish was now fully sobbing and shaking, his forehead resting against the path while his eyes continued to pour down fresh tears onto the warped and ruined wood below. He sounded broken, and Tommy understood why. Foolish wasn't a part of a faction, he knew that much. He was a wanderer like him, a lonely one at that. He just wanted companionship. Tommy himself didn't even want to think about what he would have done if Wilbur and Tubbo hadn't promised to stay with him the way they had. He blinked away the tears blurring his vision and looked away, trying to take deep breaths.

"What do you want me to do with him, your highness?" Sapnap sang as he continued to pull apart and mutilate the already dead creature with his bare hands. He was coating his own flashing armor in vile blood but he didn't look like he cared, as if tearing the thing to shreds was the single happiest thing he could ever do in his life.

George didn't even turn to face him. "Take him to The Box. Have Sam teach him a lesson."

"What?!" Foolish looked back up. "No no please! You don't understand! I-I just wanted to eat. Please give me another chance!"

"Haven't you had enough chances?" George turned, giving him one last cold glare before Sapnap reached down and yanked him up, first by his hair and then by his torso.

Foolish fought and squirmed and writhed, screaming and wailing with all his might, but it fell on deaf ears. George turned back around and walked down the path, with Sapnap trailing loyally behind, and a pleading and crying Foolish breaking apart over the guard's shoulder. Too slowly for Tommy's liking, they finally got out of sight. He let out the breath he was holding.

Once the sound of them finally was far enough for them to not possibly be able to hear him over Foolish's screaming, Tommy stood up and steadied himself against the building he'd been hiding behind. He felt like puking, but he hadn't eaten much and he would need all the nutrients he could get.

After a good few minutes of silent sobbing and shaking, Tommy continued on out of The Wastelands and back into the forest, where he continued to trek for hours until he found a familiar clearing.

Tommy got to the edge of the clearing before him and crouched down low. He peered through the bushes into the windows of the house, his eyes narrowed. There didn't seem to be any movement from inside, but that didn't put him off too much. There rarely was. It was better that way, better that the house looked run down and abandoned, its walls falling apart and the windows cracked and hollow. No one would give the house a second glance. Which was exactly what he wanted. But he knew better than to think it was actually abandoned.

He sucked in a breath and let out a long, low whistle. Then waited.

A few seconds went by, then he received his own long, long whistle in return. Still he waited.

It wasn't too much longer before he then was given a high, short whistle, and he sighed in relief, standing up fully and walking out into the clearing. As he approached the house, no one came to greet him.

He opened and closed the door with a great huff. "Hey boyyys," he called out, "I got dinner!" He then walked over to the counter in what could be called "the kitchen" and placed the items down on it.

"Did you reach the village okay?" an almost frail voice called out from the room adjacent.

"More than okay. No one was even out today. I walked through The Wastelands and didn't get attacked even once," he lied. He was arranging the food into chests behind the counter, making sure to reach into them and pluck out any food that had long since been rotten that they hadn't gotten around to cleaning out in a while. "And those villagers were easy, I don't even know how they managed to stay alive this long."

He heard a creak from the doorframe behind him and turned to see Tubbo peeking out at him with a wide smile. He smiled back, the smaller boy's smile widening even further in what Tommy assumed was happiness that he was safe.

"And you got a lot of supplies?" The voice returned. Tommy took a step closer.

"Hey Tubs," he said quietly. Tubbo waved in return. He reached out a hand and placed it on the brunette's head, giving the feathery hair there a little fluff. The kid's ears flapped in appreciation and he turned around the enter the room he came from. Tommy followed.

"Yeah," he said, his eyes then landing on the almost skeleton frame leaning back against the chair Tubbo must have propped him up in. "More than enough for at least the next month." Tommy's eyes darkened a bit as he took in the sight of his brother for the millionth time. It never got any easier, seeing his sunken eyes, pale skin, thin limbs, and almost translucent form. But nonetheless, he was more than ecstatic to see he was still alive.

"That's good," Wilbur's voice came out in another croak. He closed his eyes, the look on his face almost pleasant. "Won't have to worry about farming much, then. Tubbo's been working his little hands to the bone just for that."

To accentuate, Tubbo put on a pout and held up his thin fingers, giving them a playful wiggle in Tommy's direction.

"You know, I'm not _that_ bad of a farmer, Wilbur. I know how to fucking make plants grow," Tommy added with a roll of his eyes.

"Last time you tried to convince me of that, we went hungry for two weeks," Wilbur remarked, shaking his head. "If I wanted to die quicker, I'd just have Tubbo put a bolt through my head."

Tommy grimaced. "Don't say that shit, Wilbur. It makes me feel all... weird."

"Is weird another name for sad now?" The man laughed for maybe three seconds before it was quickly turned to a wheezing the racked his whole body and had him leaning forward and hacking into his lap. Tommy reached out to steady him, but Tubbo was already three steps ahead, holding onto Wilbur's skeletal arm and patting him on the back gently. Wilbur coughed for a minute longer until Tubbo finally handed him a glass of water that was set on the table not out of Wilbur's reach. Wilbur thanked him and put the glass to his lips, taking a long sip that seemed to put him somewhat at ease.

"You're dying, Wilbur."

Wilbur gave a short wheeze and looked up at him with a smile. "You think I don't fucking see that? I know that I'm fucking dying Tommy, christ." He handed Tubbo the glass, who put it down quickly before returning to watching over the older man with a look of concern. "You think I don't know that my body is decaying? I'm not an idiot, child."

Tommy winced.

"I'm not a child.."

Wilbur inspected his face, then sighed.

"Tommy, I know you want me to live forever. But realistically I haven't been living since the incident." Tommy winced again, no longer able to meet Wilbur's eyes. "I am indeed dying. You and Tubbo will be on your own soon. But you know I don't want that for you, right?"

"Then just don't die, I don't see how it's that hard." He gave his brother a stiff smile.

That made Wilbur chuckle again. "Right, of course. I forgot how easy it was to _not die_."

Tommy turned to Tubbo as the small boy added in his own version of laughter, the sound dead and barely more than a gust of wind that happened to leave his lungs in a rush, but Tommy appreciated it anyhow.

"Tommy I know you care about me a lot. And you want me to be here, and I want to be here too, but I can't for much longer." He paused and took a breath, leaning back further in his chair. The blanket resting on his lap slipped off a bit as he did, giving Tommy a quick glance of the misshapen and discolored limbs hidden underneath. He felt bile rise in his throat and quickly looked away, since he knew Wilbur hated it when people looked.

"Are you listening to me?"

Tommy looked back at him.

Wilbur inspected his face once more. "You and Tubbo have to leave."

"What..?!" He took a step closer. "What? Why??"

"You can't stay here," his brother lamented, shaking his head. "This house won't be safe with just you two in it. I can't protect you if I'm dead. Hell, I could barely protect you in this state. Moving is long overdue by now, but you have to go."

"Where would we even go?" Tommy's voice was raising, he knew, and Wilbur flinched back at the sound of it. He steeled himself and tried again. "Where could we be safe?"

Wilbur looked down, then up, and pursed his lips. Tommy's blood began boiling. "Tommy, I know you don't like them, but-"

"No."

"Tommy, they're-"

"No! No. NO! I'm not crawling back to them. I'm not going anywhere NEAR them. The answer is no, Wilbur."

"Tommy I'm not asking you. You _need_ them."

"No!" Tommy stomped his heavy boot on the creaking wood below them and this time both Wilbur and Tubbo flinched. "I need YOU Wilbur!"

The silence between the trio stretched on far longer than Tommy would have liked it to. He knew that Tubbo's look of terror and worry was matching his own, while Wilbur only was furrowing his eyebrows and looking off in heavy thought. He tried to pour all of his unspoken emotions into his features, hoping Wilbur would look at him and understand. He didn't.

"Tubbo, can you stand me up?"

Tubbo started, then immediately got into action, putting his arms under Wilbur's shoulders and heaving him up with an empty series of huffs and grunts. Wilbur draped an arm around Tubbo's shoulders and leaned every ounce of his weight onto the smaller boy, who didn't seem to mind much due to how absolutely weightless Wilbur was. They stumbled for a beat, then finally managed to straighten up. The act of standing had made the blanket resting on Wilbur's lap fall off, and Tommy made an active struggle not to look down.

"Tommy, I'm not asking you. This is final. Once I'm gone, you and Tubbo will be finding them and joining them, whether you want to or not."

"Wilbur! I'm not-"

"Tommy!" Wilbur's own voice raised and Tommy shut up, biting his lip as tears threatened to spill down his cheeks. "Please." Wilbur softened his gaze. "For me. Please, promise me you will."

Tubbo's gaze flit anxiously back and forth between the brothers, his lips downturned into a deep frown that made Tommy want to wail all the more.

Finally, Tommy practically collapsed with a sigh. He felt defeated, but he could tell Wilbur meant what he said.

"Okay," he breathed, barely wanting to speak the words for fear that saying them out loud would solidify everything he didn't want. "Okay, we'll find them."

"Thank you, Tommy," Wilbur relaxed.

"But!" The younger boy continued, his gaze twisting into a determined glare. "Only after you die. Which you never will!"

"Tommy-"

"I'll make sure of it. I swear it!"

Wilbur's gaze searched Tommy's.

Until he smiled and shook his head, disbelief pouring over his features. "You swear it, huh? Promise?"

Tommy nodded. "I promise."

Tubbo shifted Wilbur's weight and stumbled a bit, and Wilbur's smile turned back into a frown. "I'm going to bed. It's getting late. Don't stay up too long, Tommy. You need energy to be awake."

"I know, I know," Tommy groaned as Tubbo led Wilbur past him and into the small dark room under the stairs. Tommy turned and watched them go for longer than he planned to, then returned to the front room to begin locking up for the night.

He pushed the door closed with a huff and placed a plank in the lock holds with a loud CLUNK. He closed the shutters on the windows and locked those as well, even taking the time to light the lantern in the kitchen, "living" room, and Wilbur's bedroom. Wilbur was asleep by the time he entered, with Tubbo pulling the covers tighter up to the older man's neck and turning to give Tommy a soft smile.

"Hey," Tommy whispered.

"Hey," Tubbo mouthed.

Tommy and Tubbo moved out to main area again, Tubbo making sure to close the door behind him as they left Wilbur behind. Tubbo picked up his book and pencil, then followed Tommy out to the back porch. The moon was rising higher in the sky, and thousands of stars dotted the deep blues and purples of the universe. They leaned against the almost collapsing frame of the porch and then leaned against one another, the silence and calm of the night overtaking them.

Before long, Tommy found himself speaking.

"I saw Foolish get taken today," he spoke quietly, not even sure if he was going to actually say it even as he was saying it. Tubbo turned to him with a frown. "Sapnap found his sixth pet and took him to The Box." Tubbo's frown deepened.

He looked down at the book and scribbled in it frantically, then held it open wide for Tommy to see. Tommy glanced down at it.

"Why didn't you tell Wilbur?"

Tommy shrugged. "I didn't want him to worry. It's not like Sapnap or George saw me, I was hidden really well. I'm good at hiding, ya know!"

More frantic scribbling.

"You saw George too?????"

Tommy shrugged once again.

"Tommy that's dangerous! You could have been caught!" Tubbo gave him an angry pout, matching it with an angry huff, as he glared at his friend. Tommy chuckled and rubbed the back of his head.

"Can you please promise not to tell Wilbur? He'd freak if he knew. And I'm afraid one more freak out will shatter his heart into pieces." Tubbo huffed again. "Come on, Tubs. Stop being clingy, I'm fine."

"How am I the clingy one???"

Tommy laughed as quietly as he could manage.

Then Tubbo was writing again, and Tommy watched him.

"Did you mean what you said about Wilbur? About making sure he's okay?"

Tommy stared at the words, then nodded. "Yes. I'll kill _myself_ before I just let Wilbur die."

Tubbo's eyebrows furrowed as he wrote again. "How are you going to manage to keep that promise?"

A sigh left Tommy's parted lips and he looked out at the night sky again. He felt like the entire universe was asking him that question. Like the eyes of every god that existed were placed on him, eagerly awaiting his future and how everything would play out. It felt like they were mocking him, like they were calling him a liar and laughing at his fate. A fate they already knew. A fate that he already knew. They'd tell his tale for eons to come, laughing about it every time. Tommyinnit, the man who fucked up everything and never accomplished anything. The man who let everyone down and let his brother die. Tommyinnit, the failure.

Memories of Wilbur crossed his mind, forcing him to fall deeper into his own thoughts. Wilbur, the tall, strong, big brother who would do anything for Tommy. Wilbur, the kind, gentle, and soft spoken musician who sang Tommy to sleep every night and cuddled him to bed whenever he had nightmares. Wilbur, the determined, confident, and great warrior who fought heaven and hell to keep those around him safe. Wilbur who said he'd be by Tommy's side forever. Wilbur who said he'd keep Tommy safe no matter what. Wilbur who once had smiled at Tommy and told the boy "You have wings too, you just haven't shown them yet." Wilbur. Who was going to die and leave Tommyinnit all alone.

Tommy's lips tightened and his vision blurred.

"I'm going to try my damn well hardest," he stuttered, his voice creaking and bending with the force of his unshed tears. He took in a shaky breath and the tears resided.

Tubbo tapped his shoulder and Tommy looked over again.

"Can you at least keep your promise to me?" He brought down the book and wrote in it again. "To be together forever."

Tommy's shoulders shook with bubbling laughter and he reached down to ruffle Tubbo's hair. Tubbo glared and swatted his hand away, then smiled back.

"That's a stupid question Tubbo," Tommy laughed. "Of course I'll be with you forever." He paused. "That's a promise I never plan to break."

Tubbo held out his pinky to the younger boy, and Tommy gratefully wrapped his own around it.

"Cross my heart," Tommy said.

"And hope to die," Tubbo mouthed.

The two gazed at each other for a moment longer, then they looked back out towards the thousands of stars.


End file.
